


Noah

by TheElusiveOllie



Category: Marble Hornets
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Kittens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 19:52:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheElusiveOllie/pseuds/TheElusiveOllie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fic series done for a prompt. Totheark finds a kitten and decides to keep it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It took him a few minutes to register the muffled, high-pitched sounds trickling from someplace within the abandoned house. He’d lived in the old building for a while now, and he’d never heard those noises before. Was the house falling apart?

No, he soon realized, it wasn’t falling apart at all. There was just something _moving_ underneath some of the broken floorboards. He crept over and gingerly pushed the shattered wood planks aside.

Beneath them, much to his surprise, lay a small orange kitten. It huddled in a gap in the floorspace, clearly cold and terrified. Upon seeing his obscured face, it let out a small plaintive _mew._

The sound was so pitiful that he tentatively extended a black-gloved hand. The kitten sniffed at the glove but quickly withdrew. Its pale blue eyes, eyes of a kitten barely five or six weeks old, widened in fear.

It was a tiny little thing, young and collarless. It must have been abandoned. There was no indication that it had ever had an owner.

He tore off the gloves and pulled away the stitched black mask. It was just a kitten; it wouldn’t be able to reveal his identity to anyone. Gently, he extended his hand a second time.

This time, the kitten rubbed against his forefinger and purred softly. He scooped the kitten out of the dank hole it crouched in to hold it in cupped hands. It was cold and shivering, but he had no blankets or anything aside from his tattered mattress, so he put the kitten in the pocket of his hoodie.

The kitten’s happy purring grew louder.

He knew that now he would have to worry about this tiny life in addition to his own, and it was difficult enough to get ahold of food and supplies already.

But one look at the kitten, its eyes shut tight and its chest rumbling with warm contentment, made him believe that it was worth it. The poor thing had been all alone, just like him.

Two lonely castoffs.

The kitten needed a name. A polite check under its tail verified that it was a boy. He watched the kitten for a while as it slumbered in the warmth of his pocket. Then he smiled as an idea hit him. He was known as “totheark,” wasn’t he?

It was only fitting that the kitten be “Noah.”

Even if Noah couldn’t actually lead him to the ark, maybe he would bring him some form of peace. And that was just as good.

Better, even.

Noah followed him everywhere, even places where he positively should not go. His jacket pocket was easily his favorite place to be most of the time, whether he was asleep or poking his head out curiously to survey their surroundings. Sometimes Noah stayed in the old dilapidated house, however.

Now he wished bitterly that he’d been more careful, that he’d taken Noah with him, because one day he returned to the house to find that Noah was gone.

He shouldn’t have been bothered. It was just a stupid kitten, and he’d lost so much already. The loss of a kitten was inconsequential compared the friends, his level of control and sanity, the countless numbers of things he’d lost over the years.

But Noah had been _his_ kitten. A little spot of brightness in the perpetual darkness of his life.

And now Noah was gone.

He never returned.

 


	2. Chapter 2

In the midst of running and hiding and pilfering houses for pills and cobbling together frantically cryptic videos to leave behind clues, he hadn’t been given a great deal of time to actually sit down and think.

Whenever he did scrape aside the time to be alone with himself, he found it strange that his flow of thought always turned back toward Noah.

He missed Noah.

He missed having a friend.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d lost the kitten, or since he’d run away, or whatever exactly had happened. He lost track of time frequently, counting the days by however many salvaged pills he had left.

He grew ever more bitter with nostalgia. Frustration with himself, that he’d allowed his only friend to slip away from him, boiled beneath his stitched black mask.

It stung, that he’d had one tiny little life to take care of, and he couldn’t even do _that_ properly.

It was ironic that he wasn’t even thinking about Noah the next time he saw him.

It was raining and he’d found himself huddled in the old crumbling building where he’d first discovered the kitten. He was freezing and shivering and wondering how long he would have to stay holed up here, whether or not he should risk leaving to find his supply of pills, head clouded by a million other inconsequential thoughts.

He almost didn’t hear the quiet _mew._ He almost didn’t see the soaking orange shape slide into the building until it started making its way cautiously toward him.

Noah.

_Noah._

The kitten was no longer a kitten, eyes no longer newborn-blue. Noah had grown into a handsome orange tabby with a healthy, thick coat, even if it was currently drenched by the downpour.

Noah almost ran back to his old friend, purring madly.

It wasn’t until Noah was safely in his arms, rubbing his cheek against his worn hoodie, that he could accept that this wasn’t just some hallucination or dream. He could feel Noah huddling against him.

He hadn’t forgotten. And Noah hadn’t forgotten _him.  
_

Despite the chill creeping through the ruined house and into his bones, he smiled underneath his mask.

They would never lose each other again.

 


	3. Chapter 3

It had been harder staying on the move while Noah was a kitten, but now that he could take care of himself, it was almost easier. Noah had a knack for finding hidden, out-of-the-way places to stay. And he never needed to worry about finding food for him; there was an abundance of birds and mice in Rosswood and it seemed that Noah had become quite the cunning hunter. They were more alike than he’d initially thought, it seemed.

And, more importantly, he wasn’t alone anymore.

That all almost changed one day.

He and Noah had been scoping out a possible new home - a house so broken-down that only its basement was still fully intact - when the two were startled by the sound of shots firing.

Kralie.

He dove behind one of the dilapidated walls to hide. Noah followed the suit, tail bushed out in fear.

"I know someone’s out there!" called Kralie’s angry voice.

No one made a sound.

Another _bang_ rang out and the two of them jumped.

But this time the gunshot had a different effect on Noah. Instead of huddling to the ground, scared, he streaked out from behind the wall.

Straight at Kralie.

What was he doing?

He didn’t want to lose the only friend he had left, not again, not again -

Kralie let out a startled yelp, but there was no further gunfire. Then he lapsed into silence.

"Just a stupid cat," Kralie growled. The sound of fading footsteps told him that their attacker was gone.

Noah trotted back to meow proudly at him, tail held high. He bent down to scoop up him up, purring fervently, and scratch his chin gratefully.

Noah was more than just a friend. They looked out for each other now. He had been alone for so long but he wasn’t anymore.

He had Noah now, and that was enough.

 


End file.
